The Boy Who Lived
by StormPhoenix3205
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy had been the protagonist of the Harry Potter series? Find out if Hogwarts' favorite bad boy really is just that evil or if he's simply misunderstood. You know you want to! Loosely follows the books, rated "M" for later chapters- but will provide warnings. (Cover image is not mine. Property of beca92[dot]deviantart[dot]com)
1. Chapter 1

_**(Disclaimer: This chapter contains dialogue that is directly taken from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling. All other text throughout this story is my own except where otherwise noted. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within the series. I wish. How I do wish...)**_

**Summer**

**(Prologue)**

My name is Draco Malfoy and I've been waiting eleven years for my life to start.

Well, okay. That's an overstatement. But my life up until now has been pretty boring and I need something exciting to happen to me. Maybe I should explain- it's not like my life now is going to the dogs or anything. I'm a _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake. I'm eleven years old and I have blond hair and gray eyes. I live at Malfoy Manor (where Malfoys have lived since the Medieval era- we even have the tapestries to prove it) with my parents Lucius and Narcissa. My best friend here at home is Sophie. She's my French cousin on my mother's side. We used to have our lessons together for as long as I can remember but last year she was accepted to Beauxbatons, a school in France, and went away. But she's been here for the summer holiday and told me all about it. She said there are actual _veelas_ there and everything!

But this fall, I get to find out for myself what school is like since I got my acceptance letter from Hogwarts on my birthday a few weeks ago. Father says when it gets closer to the school year we can go to London to buy my school supplies. I'm so excited to go to Hogwarts! I can't wait to leave here and finally meet some new people at school. I was supposed to go to Durmstrang, but Mother said it was too far away. No veelas attend Durmstrang but Sophie says in her letters that she heard they let you learn the Dark Arts. But Hogwarts is all right, I suppose. Not a bad second choice. It is the best school in the country. And I heard the famous Harry Potter will be coming to Hogwarts this year or perhaps the next- I'm not quite sure how old he's supposed to be. But anyway, if he does come, I have to find him before anyone else does. He's famous for surviving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's killing curse, so he must a very powerful wizard already, and he's pure-blood of course, but I wonder what he's like...what if I became good friends with him? Everyone would know my name. Maybe I'd even get my photo in The Daily Prophet. Or even my very own Chocolate Frog card: _Best friend to Harry Potter, esteemed wizard Draco Malfoy, famous for his work with..._

**Diagon Alley**

The moment I set foot in Diagon Alley I knew it was different this time. I must've been a thousand times in my life of course, but this time was definitely different. I ran around, flitting about like a butterfly instead of pretending I was invisible the way I usually do.

"Stop darting back and forth like some creature, Draco," Father admonished. "We've got to get to Gringotts and we don't want the goblins to think you're one of their own." Instantly I stopped moving.

"I know you're excited, my darling," said Mother gently, slipping her arm around my shoulders. "But you have to remember that you're going to be on your own now. When people see you, they see all of us. Remember that you're a Malfoy, and a Malfoy is no small thing to be."

_You're a Malfoy..._How many times had I heard that? Too many to count.

But I held in my enthusiasm and walked neatly between my parents as we went to Gringotts, to get me an owl, and on other various errands for us all but after a while I grew restless and began to whine. I really wanted a new broom, especially since the Nimbus 2000 had just come out. Father sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.

"Lucius," Mother said softly. "Perhaps you and I could take care of some other business and let Draco do a few of these things on his own? He clearly wants to be off, and he could at least put all that energy to good use."

...

Fifteen minutes later, I was in Madam Malkin's, getting fitted for my school robes. We had credit at Malkin's, of course, as well as all the other important shops in the city. Everyone who's anyone knew the Malfoys. They also knew we never handled money directly, like any great wizarding family.

I stood straight and tall on my stool and thought about how great I'd look in Slytherin colors (hopefully) when the bell rang as another customer came in and Madam Malkin turned to him while nonchalantly waving her wand so the measuring tape started wrapping itself about my waist of its own accord. She returned back in a few moments with a boy following her. The boy didn't look like my sort of people. He was skinny and quiet, with round glasses and lots of black hair that was sticking out all over, covering his forehead and most of his eyes. His clothes were baggy and old, as if they had belonged to his grandfather who was three times his size. And homeless. Ugh. Madam Malkin ushered the other boy onto a stool next to mine and then began pinning the hem of his robes. He was obviously more interesting than she was, so I spoke up.

"Hello. Hogwarts, too?" I asked the boy.

"Yes," he replied. I explained what my parents were off doing and then told him how stupid it was that first-years weren't allowed their own broomsticks. This bloke was being awfully quiet, though. I tried again.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No," said the boy.

"Play quidditch at all?"

"No," the boy said again.

"I do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree." _What kind of moron doesn't play quidditch?_ I thought. But I also thought: maybe he's just not very athletic. Yes, maybe he's more of the brainy sort and not very good at quidditch. Probably falls right off his broom. So I tried something else.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," repeated the boy.

"Well," I said, thinking aloud. "No one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff. I'd leave, wouldn't you?" I chuckled.

I'm not sure if the boy said anything or not because just then I saw this enormous man tapping at the window holding two gigantic ice cream cones. He seemed to the know the boy, though. Sure enough after the man walked off, the boy said he knew the large man and said he was called Hagrid. My parents had told me all about this Hagrid. Apparently he's some sort of charity case- a savage who lives in a mud hut in the Hogwarts forest and gets pissed every so often and sets fire to something (isn't there a law about alcohol on school grounds?) and I told the boy so.

"I think he's brilliant," the boy said resolutely.

"_Do_ you?" I said, not bothering to hide my disdain. Doesn't play quidditch and he's mates with that oaf of a gamekeeper? What was wrong with him? "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

"Oh, sorry," I said automatically. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?" I pressed, trying to get to the important part.

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

I nodded. "I really don't think they ought to let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same…" I went on, telling him how it's just not right. I mean, muggle-borns know nothing about our world- they can't be trusted. "They should really keep it in the old wizarding families," I continued. "What's your surname, anyway?"

Just then, Madam Malkin interrupted. "That's you done, dear," she said to the boy as her quill hovered in mid-air, jotting down his measurements. The boy hopped down from his stool without looking at me.

"Well, see you at Hogwarts I suppose," I prompted, vaguely wondering if our paths would cross again. The boy nodded curtly, murmured some reply, then followed Madam Malkin to the front of the shop to pay.

He was rather strange, wasn't he? Doesn't play quidditch, hangs around with servants, and doesn't care that they let in bleeding anybody to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the whole of the United Kingdom?

He certainly was interesting, though. I wonder who he was.

**_A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry if this chapter was short- I wanted to see if anyone would be interested before I pour my heart and soul into this. The world of Harry Potter is so close to my heart! Anyway, this is my first HP fic so I'd REALLY appreciate reviews. Let me know if you liked it, or if not, what you think could be better. Should I keep going with this story?_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: The following chapter contains some dialogue pulled directly from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (book 1) by J.K. Rowling.  
_**

As I emerged onto platform 9 3/4 I felt ready. This was it! I stared at the big, shiny Hogwarts Express with excitement. The platform was already teeming with commotion. There were lots of other children running around with their luggage and pets, meeting up with old friends, kissing their parents goodbye; from behind me I heard the screech of an owl and in a sudden flash of movement, two tall redheaded boys scurried past me shouting something about a toilet.

"Draco, you are not a fish- stop gaping," I heard Father scold from somewhere far, far away. But I didn't pay attention, I was too busy looking at what would be my destiny for the next nine months.

"Draco!" said Father sharply, thwacking his cane under my chin. I barely felt it, I was too caught up in the noise and movement. I was finally going to Hogwarts!

"Lucius..." my mother sighed, and I finally turned around. Father cleared his throat, looking slightly sheepish- an emotion only Mother could wrestle out of him in her quiet way.

"Here we are, darling." Mother beamed at me. "All set?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, trying to pry my luggage cart from her hands. "Good-bye, Mother! Father..."

"Is that any way to leave us for almost a year?" Mother asked, her voice cracking. For the first time in almost an hour, I looked at my parents and really, I dunno, _saw_ them, I guess. Mother looked as if she were about to cry and Father- well, Father looked slightly constipated, like he was holding something in that was trying to burst out. But Father never cried. Great Morgana, I hoped he wasn't _actually_ constipated…

I walked round the cart to my mother first. "Mother…" I began awkwardly. At this, she knelt down and grabbed me tightly.

"I'll miss you, Draco," she whispered in my ear. "Be a good boy, then. Make us proud."

"I'll miss you too, Mother," I said, hugging her back. A loud horn sounded in the distance, and the three of us stood still as smoke engulfed the platform. After a few seconds, Father pried me out of Mother's arms. "Well, time to go. Good-bye, Draco." He looked down at me imperiously.

"Good-bye, Father," I replied dully.

"And…" he hesitated, then rested his hand on my shoulder. "Remember that you're a Malfoy. You cannot possibly return nearly as empty-headed as you are now." Just as my face fell, he gave me a small smile and squeezed my shoulder. But the horn blasted again before I could say anything, the moment gone almost as suddenly as it had come.

"Goodness," Mother muttered, kissing me quickly. "You'd best be off, Draco. In our day there was a porter to take your cart but now they insist on you loading it all yourself."

"Ridiculous," agreed Father. "Just because you go to school with paupers doesn't mean you must act like one." He sneered at the passers-by. But Father sneered at everyone; that didn't mean much.

"Right then, 'bye!" I said brightly, turning to my cart.

"And Draco- " Father paused. "Don't, er...don't forget to write your mother often. You know she'll want to know how you are. I won't have you worrying her," he added sternly.

I grinned. "Yes, Father." I turned then, and wheeled my cart onto the Hogwarts Express.

...

_Dear Mother,_

_I'M IN SLYTHERIN! I'm so glad! If I'd have ended up in Hufflepuff I doubt Father'd ever speak to me again. I have been at Hogwarts exactly one day and it's mostly good...but it's not at all what I expected. It's fine as far as having proper classes and all that but there are loads of things I don't agree with. But let me start from when I boarded the train. Guess what happened there?_

_I met the famous Harry Potter. And he's a real wanker. _

_I shall explain: I got on the train and found a compartment with a few other kids who seemed to be our kind (And believe me, that was hard enough. You wouldn't imagine the sort of riff-raff Hogwarts allows in these days). Anyway, they all knew who I was when I introduced myself, of course, and unloaded my luggage for me. There were a couple of blokes named Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle and some girl called Pansy Parkinson. They hadn't even expected to be admitted to Hogwarts, so I was really the only one who knew what we would be getting into. I admit I couldn't answer all their questions so I may have fudged things a bit, but no matter- they were hanging on my every word, anyway; I really don't think they'd remember the details. _

_So then we started talking about the other people we'd seen and whether there was anyone else really worthwhile at school yet (not particularly) so of course the conversation turned to Harry Potter. I asked if any of them had run into him yet and they said no, but we all wanted to see what he'd be like (ugh, even as I write this I'm so disgusted with myself) so we decided to see if we could find him before we arrived at Hogwarts. I suggested we split up and just go up and down the train- I mean, how hard could it be to find a boy with a giant lightning bolt scar on his face? Parkinson wanted the two of us to look together but Crabbe and Goyle seem like even together they've still got half a brain, unfortunately, so I told her they should come with me and she could go in the opposite direction. She seems an intelligent sort of girl so I knew she could manage well enough on her own but also, I look like bloody Merlin next to Crabbe and Goyle and I wanted to make as impressive an entrance as possible, obviously._

_The three of us had gone up a few cars without much success- some people didn't even know he was on the train, others had had a similar idea as I had of finding him before arrival- but at least it got more people talking about me as well, which I figured would be even better, eh? My name and Potter's fame together and we could be running the entire castle by Christmas! But finally after the fourth car, we found out Potter was supposedly in the last compartment. When we reached it and opened the door, there were only two boys in it, sitting amongst piles of sweets. One skinny and bespectacled, the other dressed like some kind of beggar (no, beggars dress better) and red-haired. I didn't think Harry Potter would have anything to do with these two, and was about to turn around but then I noticed something. The small boy with the black hair looked vaguely...familiar somehow. I looked at his face closely and then saw between his shaggy fringe, what looked like a zig-zag scar. _This must be Potter, _I thought. Why was he dressed like some nobody, though? I figured he must be traveling in disguise. Makes sense, right? Wouldn't want loads of trash bothering him when he's out...but he didn't know who I was yet. And I knew he would want to know me._

_"__Is it true?" I asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"_

_"__Yes," responded the boy, not looking at me but at Crabbe and Goyle who were eagerly crowding either side of me to get a look at him._

_I followed his gaze. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," I explained noncommittally. "But I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

_The ginger kid across from Potter snickered. _

_"__Think my name's funny, do you?" I inquired acidly, rounding on him. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." _

_The boy looked away and shifted uncomfortably, so I knew I had guessed correctly. Served him right. Satisfied, I turned back to Potter. Everyone knows he'd been raised by Muggles; Weasley was probably just the first person he'd run into so far. He didn't know he could do better- or so I thought._

_"__You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." I smiled and extended my hand for him to shake. _

_And do you know what he said, Mother? Do you know what he sat there and said to me?_

_"__I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."_

_I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. What a load of bollocks! He was sitting in a compartment with that Weasley kid (whose whole house could easily fit into the compartment, I'm sure) and he has the bleeding nerve to tell me he knows the wrong sort? What- as if I'M __the wrong sort? Who does he bloody think he is?! (_Sorry for all the language, Mother. But I must be honest.) _  
_

_I could tell just then that there was no way he and I could be friends if he was going to be so arrogant. _

_He didn't know who he was talking to. Didn't he understand who I was? No wonder his parents had been killed by one of the most powerful wizards ever- if they'd had the same attitude he does, hanging around with rubbish people and insulting decent folk- it was little wonder they met a nasty end, and I said so. Both of them stood up then, and challenged us to a fight. _

_But you know I would never take part in such undignified and barbaric behavior, Mother, so we graciously turned around to leave when the Weasley boy unleashed this huge, disgusting rat on poor Goyle. He screamed and tried to get it off him, his arm flailing all about like some sort of large, mad bird. He finally managed to get the creature off of him, almost losing a finger in the process. I tell you, Mother, we're lucky that little vermin wasn't rabid (and I'm not sure if I mean Weasley or the rat, really). Who knows what other nasty little tricks the two of them had up their sleeves, so we thought it was best to leave peaceably and tend to Goyle._

_Then we arrived at Hogwarts and got sorted. During sorting the hat was on my head for about two milliseconds before it put me in Slytherin, I'm pleased to say. Tell Father it didn't even have anything to decide! But Potter and that awful Weasley boy are Gryffindor. Big surprise. Seems to be the house for those who think they're great but are really just a bunch of tossers. _

_Well, I've got to go- I've got a Transfiguration quiz to study for (Already, can you imagine? That McGonagall is a right old killjoy) and Potions first in the morning. I'm sure I'll do well on the quiz, but Parkinson's making me flashcards to help. I'll tell you more some other time!_

_Love you loads,_

_Draco_

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! For a while I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this story but I've gotten back into it. I'll be posting a new chapter every Wednesday night! Let me know what you think by leaving a review, please. It really helps!**_


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